


Liquid Chocolate

by wheresmywatson



Series: Adventures in French [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Foreplay, John speaking French, M/M, Sherlock speaking French, Topping from the Bottom, sherlock dominates from the bottom, slow and sensual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheresmywatson/pseuds/wheresmywatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John once let slip that he was interested in learning some more French so Sherlock takes it upon himself to teach him. It's a good thing John's easily aroused... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Google Translate and Yahoo Answers. And thank you, most of all, to beeleebay for fixing all of my French after I used the first two websites. I do not speak French. The only things I know really well in French are je t'aime and français. ~~Don't laugh. These fics are helping me learn more, okay?~~
> 
> Translations are at the end.

Sherlock ran his hands down John's arms slowly, staring at him with a fond smile from where he was straddling the man's hips. They had the evening off and had chosen to spend it together in Sherlock's bedroom, deciding that the larger bed would be much more accommodating for whatever they might choose to do. Lubricant sat on the bedside table and they had already removed their clothes.

"Es-tu prêt?" Sherlock asked softly. "Are you ready?"

"Of course." John nodded.

"Bien."

"Are you going to be doing that the whole time?" John asked with raised eyebrows and a poorly held back smile.

"I don't know what you mean," Sherlock said, feigning ignorance yet grinning.

Lifting a finger to tap Sherlock's nose, John replied, "You know what I'm talking about. The French. I know I said it's arousing, but really?"

"You also mentioned you wanted to learn how to speak it," Sherlock reminded him, leaning down to press their lips together and squash whatever words John had been planning to say next. The kiss continued languidly for a few moments, the two men letting their hands do some wandering as their mouths slid together.

When they parted to breathe, Sherlock brought a hand up to tease one of John's nipples lightly, smiling as the man opened his mouth wider in pleasure.

"Tu es beau," Sherlock sighed, pressing a kiss to John's throat. "You are handsome. Do you think I'm handsome?"

"You know I do," John groaned, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. One of his hands was trailing through Sherlock's curls, his other resting on the man's back.

"Say it," Sherlock urged in a whisper, taking his hand away from John's nipple to instead lap at it with his tongue. John squirmed deliciously beneath him.

"You're handsome, Sherlock. So handsome."

Sherlock made a tutting sound as he sat back up and John frowned at the sudden lack of attention his body was receiving. They stared at each other, Sherlock expectant and John frustratingly confused.

"What? I said it," John said finally. "Now come back." The last words were almost a whine as John tugged gently on Sherlock's head, trying to make him lean forward again and continue his ministrations. The saliva which had been glistening on his nipple was already beginning to dry up again as it was exposed to the air.

"Je ne peux pas comprendre ce que tu dis," Sherlock spoke, shrugging his shoulders helplessly at John and ignoring all attempts John made to bring him down.

"Don't be a git," John groaned, rolling his eyes. "You're a very handsome man and you're making me horny but also frustrated. What more do you want?"

"En français."

"Français?" John repeated with a frown. "French, right? _Oh_ , you want me to say it in French."

Sherlock smiled, sliding a thumb over John's nipple as a reward for figuring it out.

Blushing in embarrassment, John cleared his throat and said, "I don't remember how."

"Tu es beau," Sherlock said, willing to help him out.

"I'm going to sound like an idiot," John grumbled sadly, winding both his arms around Sherlock's waist in a silent plea to be let off the hook.

"You spoke français easily enough," Sherlock pointed out.

"But you make it sound like liquid chocolate! How am I supposed to compete with that?" John burst out.

Sherlock laughed, leaning down to kiss his partner's lips briefly before shaking his head. "Chocolat liquide, hm?"

"Yes, _that_ , you idiot," John said with a smile.

"If you say it in French," Sherlock said slowly, his voice low. "I will go back to this-" He brushed his thumb over John's nipple again. "-For at least a minute."

John's breath hitched, eyes darkening at the proposal. He didn't say anything for a moment, but finally Sherlock could see him giving in and preparing to repeat the words he had heard.

"Tu es beau," John murmured, his pronunciation not quite perfect but certainly good enough for a first attempt.

Immediately, Sherlock lowered his head to the nipple that had so far received no attention and began to circle it with his tongue, his fingers rubbing gently across the other. John shuddered happily beneath him, letting out a sigh and moving a hand up into Sherlock's hair again to show his gratitude.

As promised, Sherlock continued this for about a minute. During this time he switched nipples, coating them both in saliva and finally sucking gently when John got desperate for more. Sherlock could feel John's member lengthening against his stomach and rocked teasingly, producing some more friction to drive John out of his mind.

"Nous n'avons plus de lait," Sherlock said when he lifted his head, his hand trailing all over John's chest so that their contact wasn't ceased completely. "We're out of milk."

"What?" John asked breathily. "You're joking."

"Non," Sherlock said, shaking his head and glancing down to where John's erection was standing tall like a proud soldier. He almost slid his hand low enough to touch it, but withdrew at the last moment and smirked as John whined. "Repeat after me, John, because this is an important phrase to learn. Nous n'avons plus de lait."

"You're lucky you sound so gorgeous speaking French," John sighed. "Alright. Uh, nous n'avons... plus de lait?"

"Excellent," Sherlock encouraged him, kissing his chest. "Now say it again, but think the meaning as you do. _Learn_ it."

John furrowed his eyebrows in concentration briefly, recalling the words again, before giving Sherlock his best look of exasperation and saying, "Nous n'avons plus de lait!"

Smiling widely, Sherlock kissed him again. "Parfait! Perfect!"

With a laugh at how excited Sherlock was, John grinned and ran his hands over the detective's back. "Do I get any more rewards for my French skills?" he asked cheekily.

"That depends," Sherlock murmured. "How much more French can you say?"

"Je t'aime," John answered with a proud grin. Sherlock kissed him lightly.

"No more?" Sherlock asked then.

"Not yet," John said, raising his eyebrows.

Willing to rise to the challenge, Sherlock smiled. "Hm. Can you say... Je veux que tu me touches?"

"Je vou... que tu me touches."

"Very close. Je veux que tu me touches," Sherlock repeated.

Clearing his throat, John tried again. "Je veux que tu me touches."

Nodding once to tell John he'd gotten it right, Sherlock then shifted back and moved his hand to hold John's member lightly, moving up and down teasingly. John licked his lips, soft gasps escaping him as his hips tried to arch into the touch but were held down by Sherlock's other hand.

"What does it mean?" John asked after a moment, watching through half-lidded eyes as Sherlock wiped the precome from the tip of his member and trailed it along his length.

"You said that you wanted me to touch you," Sherlock explained with a smirk.

"Oh f-" John swallowed and closed his eyes. "Oui, Sherlock. Je veux que tu me touches."

"Je vais te faire hurler mon nom," Sherlock growled, a promise in his tone of voice even though John had no idea what he had just said – but didn't 'mon nom' have something to do with a name?

"Please don't stop," John begged.

"Je n'oserais pas. Pas maintenant," Sherlock replied. Starting to slide down the man's body, he went on, "I'm going to use my mouth, now, John. Arrête, stop. Encore, more."

"Arrête," John said to test the word, and Sherlock paused to look up at him. "Encore. Sherlock, s'il te plaît."

Arousal was burning through Sherlock as well but he ignored his own body's desires, instead lowering himself so that his mouth was just above John's twitching member. He reached out with his tongue to lick it experimentally and John groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he closed them.

"J'ai envie de toi," Sherlock whispered, his last words before lowering his mouth onto John.

Sherlock sucked gently, swirling his tongue around the end before taking a deep breath through his nose and sinking down lower, taking more of John into his mouth until he could feel it against the back of his throat. John was a whimpering mess, both hands fisted in Sherlock's hair without force. When Sherlock began bobbing his head up and down, John swore under his breath.

"Encore," John murmured after a moment, frowning as he tried to search for a word but was too distracted to think properly. "Faster, Sherlock," he begged.

To John's horror, Sherlock slid his mouth off.

"Plus vite," Sherlock said. "Means faster."

"You... are a cruel bastard," John gasped out, fingers tightening on Sherlock's head as he tried to push the man down again. "Please. S'il te plaît, Sherlock."

"One other thing you should know before we continue," Sherlock went on, resisting John's tugging and pleading. "Ça vient. That means, 'I'm coming'. I don't intend to let you come down my throat tonight."

The words made John's eyebrows raise and he relaxed, a small smile appearing on his face in place of his frustrated frown. "And what exactly _have_ you got planned, then?" he asked, bringing one of his hands down from Sherlock's hair to trail over the man's cheek and then lips. Sherlock opened his mouth, sucking one finger inside and refusing to answer. "Are you going to let me come inside you, Sherlock?" John asked softly.

Still, Sherlock merely sucked on John's finger.

"Fine," John said with a roll of his eyes. He pulled his finger free and took a deep breath. "We'll do it your way, then. S'il te plaît. Plus vite."

Sherlock was visibly pleased, smirking as he lowered his head once more to envelop John's firm erection in his wet mouth. His movements were slow again at first, but gradually he sped up to put John out of his misery, reaching a hand up to brush over the man's nipple again.

"Oh, je t'aime," John moaned. "Please, I mean... fuck."

The moans pouring out of John's mouth and the movements that his body made due to the pleasure were enough to distract Sherlock from his poor French at the moment. Whenever Sherlock's lips reached the tip of John's erection, he sucked harder and flicked his tongue over the end to make John's hips flinch upwards. Sherlock's own erection was still heavy between his legs, but thinking about what was to come reminded him that it would be worth it.

Only a few moments had passed when John was suddenly pulling on Sherlock's hair, gasping sharply. "Sh- uh... Ça ve- veen? Ah... god, Sherlock, I'm gonna come."

More for his own benefit, Sherlock quickly released the man's member from his mouth, gripping the base tightly with one hand to stop his orgasm from coming too quickly. As John sighed and relaxed on the bed again, Sherlock let go and crawled up to kiss his neck.

"Can I please fuck you now, Sherlock?" John asked softly.

"Peut-être, si tu travaillais ton français," Sherlock muttered against his skin.

"I didn't hear a yes in there," John groaned.

Chuckling, Sherlock sat up and reached over to grab the bottle of lube, winking at John as he opened it and moved down the bed so that he could coat John's erection. John licked his lips eagerly, eyes fixed on Sherlock and breath hitching occasionally in response to Sherlock's long fingers sliding over him.

Sherlock's fingers disappeared then, reaching back to prepare himself as he kept his gaze trained on John in return. The two men stared at each other, panting, until Sherlock's hand came back into view and he shifted forward, lifting himself on his knees to get into position above John.

"Ne viens pas trop vite," Sherlock said slowly, enunciating each word carefully as he lowered himself and felt John's member pushing into him. John was being surprisingly controlled, staying perfectly still as Sherlock got himself comfortable.

"I don't know what you said," John murmured, his hands coming up to rest on Sherlock's hips but not pushing.

"Don't come too quickly," Sherlock translated, and then repeated, "Ne viens pas trop vite."

John nodded, trying to remember the words but finding it difficult as he was quite distracted by the warm flesh surrounding him. Sherlock had almost sunk down completely when he stared pulling up again, fucking himself slowly and smirking as John bit his lip with a groan.

"I love you," John murmured softly. "Je t'aime." He shifted just a bit and Sherlock gasped, making John chuckle as he rubbed his hand over the man's thigh apologetically. "You're annoying, and you choose the worst moments to teach me French, but I also can't imagine being without all of this."

"Besides," Sherlock added. "You find it arousing when I speak French."

John ran a hand over Sherlock's chest slowly. "I find it arousing when you speak," he corrected.

"Is that so?" Sherlock asked, sitting down fully on John and clenching his muscles around him. John closed his eyes as he moaned. "Are there any words in particular that work better than others?"

John didn't respond, simply shaking his head with a small shrug to say he didn't know.

"What if I tell you how big you feel inside me?" Sherlock asked, lowering his voice and smirking. "You're huge, John, and it feels so good." He resumed his movements, speeding up gradually and breathing heavily.

Unable to keep still any more, John tightened his grip on Sherlock's hips and began to thrust up to meet him, his own breathing also heavy to match Sherlock's. "Yes," he groaned. "That will definitely do the trick."

Leaning forward, Sherlock changed their angles slightly so that he could kiss John at the same time, shuddering as the change also meant John was able to brush his prostate on every thrust. Their kiss was distracted, occasionally being forgotten as both men paid more attention to their lower bodies.

When John felt himself drawing close to his orgasm again, he kissed Sherlock deeply and reached for the man's weeping erection. He couldn't believe Sherlock had gone so long without demanding to be touched, but did his best to make up for neglecting him by brushing his fingers over the spots he knew produced the most pleasure.

"Viens pour moi," Sherlock moaned into their kiss, his muscles clenching around John again as his body climbed rapidly to his orgasm as well.

John gasped loudly, somehow understanding the meaning behind Sherlock's words and arching his back as everything exploded at once and Sherlock's name tore itself from his throat. He felt Sherlock shuddering in his hands and they were suspended for a few moments, caught in the bliss of orgasm before crashing and holding each other's sweat-covered bodies.

Sherlock carefully eased himself off of John, laying beside him and resting his head on the man's chest.

"Je t'aime," John said softly, running a hand through Sherlock's hair and kissing the top of his head.

"Mm." Sherlock sighed, tilting his head to look up at John and smile. "Nous n'avons plus de lait."

"What's that again?" John asked curiously, his hand pausing in Sherlock's hair as he thought it over. "Wait... no! Are you serious?"

Sherlock started chuckling and kissed John's chin.

"We just had sex and you're already talking about the milk again?" John exclaimed, trying to stay mad at Sherlock as the other man climbed on top of him again and showered him in light kisses. "I hate you, Sherlock. Go take a shower. You stink."

"Tu m'aimes," Sherlock said smugly.

"No. Get off."

"Je sais que tu m'aimes. Ne sois pas en colère." Sherlock slid his fingers into John's hair and gazed at him lovingly, all traces of humour gone as he spoke sincerely. "Tu es mon cœur, John."

John stared up at him, not completely understanding but sensing the importance of what Sherlock had just said. "You're going to have to teach me that one," he murmured.

"You're my heart, John." Sherlock pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. "You keep me right."

**Author's Note:**

> French Translations:
> 
>  _Es-tu prêt?_ \- Are you ready?  
>  _Bien._ \- Good.  
>  _Tu es beau._ \- You are handsome.  
>  _Je ne peux pas comprendre ce que tu dis._ \- I can't understand what you're saying.  
>  _En français._ \- In French.  
>  _Chocolat liquide._ \- Liquid chocolate.  
>  _Nous n'avons plus de lait._ \- We're out of milk.  
>  _Non._ \- No.  
>  _Parfait!_ \- Perfect!  
>  _Je t'aime._ \- I love you.  
>  _Je veux que tu me touches._ \- I want you to touch me.  
>  _Je vais te faire hurler mon nom._ \- I'm going to make you scream my name.  
>  _Je n'oserais pas. Pas maintenant._ – I wouldn't dare. Not now.  
>  _Arrête._ \- Stop.  
>  _Encore._ \- More.  
>  _S'il te plaît._ \- Please.  
>  _J'ai envie de toi._ \- I want you.  
>  _Plus vite._ \- Faster.  
>  _Ça vient._ \- I'm coming.  
>  _Peut-être, si tu travaillais ton français._ \- Maybe, if you work on your French.  
>  _Ne viens pas trop vite._ \- Don't come too quickly.  
>  _Viens pour moi._ \- Come for me.  
>  _Je sais que tu m'aimes. Ne sois pas en colère. Tu es mon cœur, John._ \- I know you love me. Don't be mad. You're my heart, John.


End file.
